Middle Earth's Best Therapist
by Drew L
Summary: Middle Earth now has a Mental Therapist: Gandalf. Let the madness begin. Please R&R. New appointment.
1. Appointment One: Elrond's PMS

GANDALF: THE MENTAL THERAPIST:

Appointment One:

ELROND AND HIS PMS:

(Warning: The diagnosis in this story are not realistic, please consult a real therapist before reading this.)

Dr. Gandalf Stormcrow, the Mental Therapist famed throughout Middle- Earth sat at his desk.

"Who's next, Grace," he asked over his speaker-phone.

"A Mr. Half-Evlen," His secretary answered.

"Send him in," Gandalf said.

After a moment, Elrond came in the door and lied down on the couch.

"What ails you, Mr. Half-Elven," Gandalf asked, his notebook and pen out and ready.

"I don't know. You see, my daughter wants to marry this Wannabe King Aragorn, but he's mortal, and she's immortal, and 3000 years old at that, so they're not even age correct," Elrond said, "And Aragorn just doesn't get it, mixed marriages hardly ever last. He claims that she stays because there is still hope, but the truth is she stays for him, she belongs with her people!"

"I see, over-protective father, dating questionably young man. A very common case," Gandalf said, jotting down some notes.

"Its not that...well, it is, but still..." Elrond said.

"Uh-huh," Gandalf mused, "Are they getting married for sure?"

"Yes," Elrond said, "They're getting married, because she had to give away her precious immortality so freely, the brat!"

"Hmm," Gandalf said, "Do you feel anything else towards they're getting married?"

"Its very stressful, setting up all those things for a "kingly" marriage, its very tiring," Elrond said.

"Tell me about your life, and we may find out what is the root of your problems," Gandalf said.

"Oh, geez, I'd have to go back thousands of years, since I am several thousands of years of things just building up, my brother choosing to be a mortal, my mother jumping into a violent river after some dumb old piece of jewelry, my wife going over to the Valinor without me, and now I'll have to explain that our daughter is now mortal, right to her face," Elrond said, and began going through a box of tissues like there was no tomorrow.

"I see," Gandalf said, "You are just a mess."

In fact, Gandalf has written in the notebook : "Elrond: Just Plain Nuts".

"I know," Elrond sniffled, "I want my mommy!"

"Well, Lord Elrond, what can I say, I never had a mom," Gandalf said, and started crying, too.

The patients in the waiting room pondered the sound of two full grown men crying coming from inside Dr. Stormcrow's office, but decided it was wise not to say anything.

"Well," Gandalf said, still a little teary, "I have a diagnosis for you, Mr. Half-Elven."

"Well, what is it," Elrond asked.

"You have PMS."

"PMS, but only women get that," Elrond explained, starting to cry again.

"Yes, you are a very unusual case. Next!"

Next Appointment: Frodo's Arachnophobia


	2. Appointment Two: Frodo's Arachnophobia

GANDALF: THE MENTAL THERAPIST:

APPOINTMENT TWO:

FRODO'S ARACHNOPHOBIA:

Gandalf sighed in relief as the Elven Lord left weeping over his PMS.

"One out of the way, now I just have to get through..." Gandalf muttered as he checked over his papers, "...THIRTY MORE APPOINTMENTS TODAY!"

"Send the next in, Grace," Gandalf told his secretary over the speaker-phone.

"Mr. Frodo Bagginse, you're next."

Frodo quietly came in the door of Dr. Stormcorw's office.

"Ah, Frodo, my lad, good to see you, but not here, of all places," Gandalf said, "What troubles you?"

"I used to love spiders. I'm sure you remember Betsy, my pet Black Widow," Frodo said.

"Ah, yes, Betsy, the one that scared Pippin all the way to a straightjacket," Gandalf said in remembrance of the 'pet'.

"Yes, that one," Frodo said.

"You always did have an attraction to poisonous spiders, I recall," Gandalf said, "So, why has that changed?"

"I'm terrified of my new spider, Carmen, a perfectly harmless exotic spider," Frodo said, "And all she's done is curl up at my feet and purr."

"Curl up at you feet? How big is this thing," Gnadalf asked.

"About three feet high, she's really friendly," Frodo, "And she scares the neighbors away."

"Well, first off, Frodo, I would recommend a better taste in pets," Gandalf said, "Where on earth did you get this creature?"

"At a wonderful traveling pet store," Frodo said, "They had all things I was interested in, and she was the main attraction."

"I can imagine they have very poor business," Gandalf mused.

"Yes, well I know she's very friendly, but I can't help but feel frightened around her," Frodo said, "I am ashamed."

"After the Shelob incident. I can imagine you are terrified of spiders," Gandalf said, "Well, I may have just the thing for you."

With that, Gandalf called his secretary, "Grace, send in my 2 O' Clock appointment."

"Who," Frodo asked, turning to the door.

Shelob walked in the door. Frodo and Shelob's eyes met, and they looked at each other in horror for a moment, and then shrieked in terror. They both fainted and fell over on their backs.

"Hmm," Gandalf said, looking from one to the other, "It would seem that I nailed two birds with one shot."

Next Appointment: Shelob's Hobbitophobia.


	3. Appointment Three: Shelob's Hobbitophobi...

GANDALF: THE MENTAL THERAPIST:

APPOINTMENT THREE:

SHELOB'S HOBBITOPHOBIA

Gandalf looked over his papers for the day as he waited for the next patient to arrive. A creak at the door alerted him to her arrival.

"Ah, Shelob, please, lie down, with your new handicap, your second trip here must have been very painful," Gandalf said, motioning to the couch.

She sat down on the couch, on her stomach.

"I see you still don't like having your belly exposed, but you must admit you had your new physical problems coming to you."

"Tick, tick, tick," She replied.

"Well, there's no need to get snippy with me, I'm only here to help," Gandalf said.

Shelob ticked something rude about hobbits being placed in the office to scare her.

"What was that," Gandalf asked.

"Tick (Nothing)," Shelob replied.

"Well, I've put the results I saw here yesterday to much consideration, and came to a conclusion. You have hobbitophobia," Gandalf said, "Its quite common with the servants of Morgoth to fear the Halfings. They are a stout bunch."

"Tickity-tick, tickin'," She said, grumpily.

"Now, don't be that way," Gandalf said, "All you have to do is confront your fears and you'll be just fine. In fact, I've brought someone here to help with that. He's very much willing to see you again."

Gandalf turned to the closet door, "Sam."

Samwise Gamgee stepped out of the door, Sting and the Galadriel' Light both ready for action.

"Remember me," Sam asked.

"AAAAAAAAURGH," Shelob roared and crashed through the wall to escape.

"Grace," Gandalf said over the speaker-phone, "Make a demo, the wall needs repairing."

"Sorry, I just trying to help," Sam said.

"You can't help me anymore, Sam," Gandalf said, "Go home."

"You don't mean that," Sam sobbed.

Next Appointment: Sam's Manic Depression.


	4. Appointment Four: Sam's Manic Depression

GANDALF: THE MENTAL THERAPIST:

APPOINTMENT FOUR:

SAM'S MANIC DEPRESSION:

"Welcome, Mr. Gamgee," Gandalf said.

"Hello, Mr. Gandalf, sir," Sam replied.

"Please, don't call me 'Mr. Gandalf', I don't like the sound of being high and mighty, call me 'Dr. Gandalf.'"

"Um, okay," Sam said.

"What troubles you, Sam," Gandalf said.

"I've been unhappy, and I don't know why," Sam said, "I'm married, I have twelve kids, and I have all of Bag-Eng. As well as being a political leader at times."

"Sounds like you've been pretty important, for a gardener," Gandalf said, and then added under his breath, "Twelve kids, no wonder he's depressed."

"Well, Mr. Gandalf, sir, this all started when Mr. Frodo went away," Sam said, "And left me with his 'pet', Carmen the spider."

"Oh, yes, I've heard of her," Gandalf, "So, you miss Frodo, is that what it is?"

"Yes, we spent a lot of time together on our trip to Mordor. We spared moments, we hugged, we kissed..."

"I get the idea, Sam," Gandalf said, not wishing to have any more details on it.

"And well, I miss doing that," Sam said, "If only Rosie would get herself into a fix..."

"Ah...I see. You are suffering from manic depression, caused by being bored for an extreme long amount of time," Gandalf said.

"What do I do to get out of it," Sam asked, worried.

"Well," Gandalf said, "It just so happens, that I have another campaign planned, one that will take over a year, just like Bilbo and Frodo's adventured."

Sam's eyes widened with delight, "I'll be your first volunteer, Dr. Gandalf," He cheered.

"Good. I'll call in the morning. I have another appointment in a minute." Gandalf said, pretending to look at a watch on his wrist that didn't exist.

"Very well, Mr. Gandalf." Sam said, and took his leave.

"Grace, make a memo." Gandalf over the speaker-phone, "Get someone to release an ancient evil so Sam can battle it."

"So, did you find out what's wrong with him?" Grace asked.

"Heck no, what do I look like, a psychic?" Gandalf replied.


	5. Appointment Five: Denethor's Pyromania

Gandalf: The Mental Therapist:

Appointment Five:

Denethor's Pyromania:

"Grace, I'm ready for Steward Denethor," Gandalf said, into the you- know-what-by-now.

Denethor came into the room.

"Have a seat," Gandalf said, motioning to the couch.

"I will sit where I choose," Denethor said promptly.

"The couch is the only place to sit in here," Gandalf said.

"Oh," Denethor said, looking around the room for the first time.

"What's your troubles these days," Gandalf said.

"Well, I seem to have had a very big fascination with fire lately," Denethor replied.

"Ah, yes, I know THAT all too well," Gandalf replied, remembering a certain incident concerning a bonfire in a tomb.

"Well, I haven't been able to go a day without starting a fire somewhere," Denethor said, "I can't think of anything else."

"Well, then, the answer is obvious, you have pyromania," Gandalf said.

"Rule of Gondor is MINE! And no others," Denethor yelled and stood up.

"And he's just as crazy as before," Gandalf noted down in his notebook.

"Do you think these eyes are blind," Denethor asked, harshly, holding up severed eyes.

Gandalf, at this point, was seriously considering several highly rated Mental Hospitals.

"With your right hand, you would use as a shield against Mordor, and with your left hand, you would wish to uproot me! I know who sits at the throne of Gondor, word has reached my ears of this Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, and I tell you now, I did not bow to this ranger from the North, a Ragged house long broken from Lordship!"

"Goodness, did you say this right to his face," Gandalf asked.

"Oh, yes, and the tyrant threw me out of the city. Faramir actually did the honors of throwing me over the wall," Denethor said, his lips quivering in their usual insane manner, "And the landing hurt."

"I imagine it hurt less than when you jumped while flaming," Gandalf said.

"Yes, but my own son!"

"Well gee, I wonder why the abused and almost B-B-Q-ed Faramir did that," Gandalf said, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I can fix your pyromania here, although it seems to be the least f your problems anymore," Gandalf said, looking over the long list of all the illnesses that were showing on Denethor's list.

"I will light a match, and you'll resist the temptation," Gandalf said.

Denethor watched the match glow in the wondrous light of the flame.

Finally, he could take no more, and whipped out some gasoline in a bucket from freaking nowhere.

"Fire," he yelled with glee and threw it at the match before Gandalf could react.

Gandalf screamed in terror, "NOOOO!" (BOOM!)


	6. Appointment Six: Faramir's Insomnia

Gandalf: the Mental Therapist:

Appointment Six:

Faramir's Insomnia:

"Send the next one in, Grace," Gandalf spoke into the singed speakerphone.

"Yes, ZZZZZZZZZZZ...sir," The voice crackled, barely understandable.

"Very good," Gandalf said.

Gandalf redid some of his bandages, then sat in his typical, 'I'm ready to help you' stance.

Faramir walked in the door.

"Ah, Faramir, what ails you," Gandalf asked, nicely.

"I'm can't sleep, and I'm afraid of fire," Faramir said.

"Ah, you're afraid that if you go to sleep, you'll wake up next to a bonfire intended to fry you, as well," Gandalf inquired.

"Yes, and I'm nervous whenever there's fire," Faramir said.

"Well, I recommend you face your fears, in fact, we can do it right here," Gandalf said, taking out some matches and a medallion.

Faramir inched his way towards the door.

Gandalf jumped in his way and shouted, "You shall not pass!"

Faramir cowered under the couch, and whimpered.

"You can't do this to me," Faramir whined.

"Oh, yes, I can," Gandalf replied.

"Come on out, Faramir," Gandalf said, holding out a treat.

Faramir crawled out from under the couch, and took the treat.

"Now, to get to work," Gandalf said.

Before long, Gandalf had him under a sleeping spell.

"Awaken now," Gandalf ordered him, and lit a match.

Faramir awoke to see it.

"AAAAAH!" he shrieked and tried to bat it away, but only managed to get himself lit on fire.

"Calm down and sit still," Gandalf yelled and tried to put him out.

"The city is burning, already burning," Faramir yelled, and ran out the window and onto the roof outside.

He ran all the way to the end and leaped off.

"Like father, like son," Gandalf groaned as he followed Faramir to the edge of the roof and saw him land.

"Grace," Gandalf said, "Make a memo: Patient injured in a fall and by flames, and call his wife."


	7. Appointment Seven: Aragorn's Hydrophobia

Gandalf: The Mental Therapist:

Appointment Seven:

Aragorn's Hydrophobia

"Send the next one in," Gandalf spoke into his speakerphone.

Suddenly, a rank smell filled the air.

"Ah, I don't even have to look at my list of appointments of today to tell that's Aragorn," Gandalf said, taking out a clothes pin and clogging his nose.

Aragorn entered the room and sat down on the couch.

"What ails you, your majesty," Gandalf asked.

"Well, do you know why I smell so bad," Aragorn asked.

"Yes, because you don't bathe, it is quite obvious," Gandalf answered.

"Well, I don't bathe because I am a hydrophonic," Aragorn said, much shame in his eyes, "I Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildor, the..."

"I am well aware of who you are, get to the point," Gandalf interrupted.

"I who slay many foes am afraid of water," Aragorn sobbed now, "I cannot live with the shame of it." With that, he covered his face with his hands.

"Well, there are two choices," Gandalf said, "Either run around with a mask, like Zorro, or, face your fears."

"Well, I don't look good in masks. Arwen, daughter of Elrond, the evenstar of her people..." Aragorn started.

"You are fond of long titles, too, I can see., Gandalf cut in.

"Sorry, well, my wife said I don't look good in masks," Aragorn finished.

"When did you try a mask on," Gandalf asked.

"She had a fantasy where her lover crawled in the window and they..." Aragorn started again.

"Enough. I can see where that was going," Gandalf said, "You didn't look as good in a mask as her fantasy version of you, eh?"

"No, I actually scared her," Aragorn replied, "She screamed and Legolas came in and shot me."

"And you're still alive," Gandalf said with much surprise.

"Well, he was drunk," Aragorn said, "And it only got my shoulder."

"Where did he come from," Gandalf asked, remembering that their room was locked when they were in it.

"He came out of our closet. Why," Aragorn asked.

"Nothing," Gandalf replied, writing down to note to himself, "Nothing at all."

"Well, he hasn't been in our closet since. He was wearing one of her dresses," Aragorn said, shuddering.

"I can well imagine," Gandalf said, being quite familiar with Legolas' dressing habits when drunk.

"Well, it seems that we must have you confront your fear of water," Gandalf said, "And we can do it right here."

"Can I overcome my fear by using the shallow end of our swimming pool, please," Aragorn asked.

"Why," Gandalf asked in reply, "Its perfectly safe here."

"Oh, just the little fact that Faramir has just now come home from the House of Healing, again," Aragorn said, "He told me everything."

"Now, he set himself on fire. Don't blame me," Gandalf retorted.

"Your fault or not, it happened here. As did Denethur's unfortunate second roasting!"

"What can possibly happen with water, the very thing used to fight fire," Gandalf asked.

"Well..." Aragorn said, "You have a point there. So, how do we do this."

"I have a tub full of water in the closet," Gandalf said, pointing to the very closet where Sam had ambushed Shelob for a second time.

"What will we do with the water," Aragorn asked.

"I will place a spell on you that will allow you to breathe under the water, and there you will stay, until you are quite comfortable with it," Gandalf said.

"I have to go under water," Aragorn asked, turning blue.

"Yes," Gandalf replied, cheerily, and motioned to the closet. The door opened and the tub slid out into the middle of the room.

"Get in the tub," Gandalf ordered.

Aragorn hesitated, but climbed into the tub, regardless, and sat in it.

Gandalf began chanting.

Aragorn laid down and went below the water's surface.

"There, that should do it," Gandalf, opening his spell book to make sure.

Suddenly, Aragorn's arms and legs began thrashing about.

"Hold your horses, I am busy," Gandalf said, looking through his spell book.

"Uh-oh," Gandalf said as he looked at the spell he had cast. He turned just in to time to see Aragorn get flushed down into the sewage system.

"I'll get you...GANDALF," Aragorn shouted as he was sucked down.

"Goodness," Gandalf said, "Grace!" He said into his headphones, "we need some plumbers, and fast!"


End file.
